Crashing a Wedding in Yemen: How a Chance Encounter Led to One of My Wildest Travel Stories
The guard’s rifle was pointing directly at my face.
“Maybe ask him to move it a little?” I whispered to Ash, my unexpected travel companion. Moments later, the guard casually announced: “There’s a wedding.”
Riding in the back of a pickup truck on our way out of the crazy wedding
This post is a written highlight of my podcast episode that you can listen to here for even more juicy travel talk
Meeting Ash: From Egypt to 147 Countries
My co-adventurer that day was Ash Yacob, a man who’s not only visited 147 countries but also spent 26 years working with NGOs in conflict zones. From Syria to Afghanistan, he’s seen the best and worst of humanity.
Ash describes his work with striking honesty:
“Wars and civil unrest change people deeply; the way they think, the way they react. The impact of civil wars remains years after the fact.”
He tells me about colleagues in Syria who would stay late in the office because it was the only place with electricity and reliable internet. One colleague once told him she was thrilled after a mortar fell just meters away, but not because she survived, but because her car wasn’t damaged.
“It sounds disturbing,” Ash admitted, “but war desensitizes you.”
It was clear that Ash saw the world not just through the lens of a traveler, but through years of navigating chaos, resilience, and survival.
First Impressions of Yemen
Yemen isn’t the kind of country you just “decide” to visit. Permits, armed guards, and careful planning make every step an exercise in patience and trust.
But when you finally get there, the rewards are extraordinary. Driving through Hadramout, we stared at eight-story mud buildings, vast canyons, and abandoned villages frozen in time.
From our hotel balcony, we spotted a deserted town perched on the cliffs. Curiosity won. Ash had injured his foot on a previous trip to Ghana, but he joined me as we scrambled up rocks to explore. Inside crumbling homes, I found relics of daily life: tools, pottery, and even the room where villagers once crafted Yemen’s distinctive pointed straw hats.
“How did people even live up here?” I asked.
It was a mystery lost to time. The last family had left in 2008, after devastating floods.
The Wedding We Weren’t Supposed to Attend
As we hiked back from the abandoned town,
the guard mentioned there was a wedding.
What started as a sarcastic suggestion that we should attend turned into a once-in-a-lifetime cultural encounter.
We arrived at a bustling village where strangers
immediately welcomed us with open arms.
Tons of people were gathered, while the women celebrated separately. And we got chicken and rice served before 10 a.m., followed by dancing and chanting rituals I couldn’t quite decipher.
Ash was hesitant at first.
“If I were alone, I’d never do this,” he admitted. “But seeing your energy, I thought… why not?”
I joined in the celebrations, even placing my hand on the groom’s head during a traditional chant. When I asked what the words meant, the groom’s father laughed: “Nothing. Just sounds.”
It was super surreal! Two foreigners, one limping from a foot injury, the other busy getting to know everyone in the wedding, celebrating with villagers who couldn’t have been happier to share their joy.
Lessons From Yemen’s People
Traveling in a country scarred by war, you would naturally expect tension. Instead, I found generosity at every turn.
“People here are incredibly friendly,” Ash reflected. “They aren’t camera shy; they invite you to sit with them, and they’ll share whatever they have.”
Even our guards, rifles slung casually over their shoulders, laughed with us and seemed genuinely amused by our spontaneous detour to the wedding.
For me, Yemen became a reminder that the best stories happen when plans go sideways. We were supposed to be visiting Osama bin Laden’s brother’s house, but instead we ended up dancing at a wedding. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Beyond Yemen: A Life on the Road
As our conversation continued, Ash opened up about his journey into humanitarian work. He recalled how a desperate NGO first sent him to Albania during the Kosovo refugee crisis, and from there his life shifted into a career across conflict zones.
But despite his heavy experiences, he still seeks joy in traveling. When I asked what country surprised him the most, the answer was clear:
“Yemen! Impressive, better than expected. Friendly people. A lot to see.”
And after crashing a wedding, I can’t blame him for saying Yemen. And with 147 countries under his belt, his next adventure is Laos. Maybe a bit different from Yemen, the dust and mud buildings.
The famous mud “skyscrapers” in Shibam Yemen
Final Thoughts
As we wrapped up in a Yemeni park, surrounded by locals eager to invite us for tea, I thought about what Ash said earlier: “Wars change people deeply.”
But so does travel. It changes the way we see others and the way we see ourselves.
If there’s one lesson you should take from this post, it’s that the world is full of unexpected invitations. All you have to do is say YES.
